So it's Sunday night, I flick GiJoe1313 a message online and ask if he wants to go for a wee roam around the city.
Mission Bay at about 11pm; he's in front going along Tamaki Drive, I'm sitting behind in a stagger. There's a new grey Honda Civic in front, going bang on the speed limit. He pulls over and lets us through -- how nice!
Get to the end of Tamaki Drive, we pull off to Cliff Rd and make our way up into the urban twisties that lie off many side roads up there. Curiously, the Honda is still right behind me, despite many turn-offs and side-roads. Slowly I begin to realise -- it's a plain-clothesTwo men in the front seats, perfect road manners, let us through so he could tail us. Instantly I begin to drive as if I were doing a licence test. Bang on 50kph or just below, stop at every stop sign, both feet down -- but most of all keep staring in the mirrors.
Meanwhile Justin slowly disappears from my view.
On a longish straight bit of road, no yellow lines, the Honda carefully indicates and overtakes, then indicates back into his own lane. Perfectly by the book. He takes off, clearly after Justin (as he's the bigger speeder and I seem to be holding the coppers up so he can get away).
Further up the road I come across Justin and the Honda. Justin's parked up outside a shut dairy, just taking his helmet off. The Honda's got its hazard lights on and the coppers are just about to get out of the car. Am I going to hang around, at 11.30pm or so on a leaner's licence with no L-plate? Hell no. Off I head, up into the hills, as many side-streets as I can go on.
Find some trees by the side of the road, switch the lights off, rip off helmet + jacket + gloves and leave them with the bike under the trees. Pull out phone and text Justin, `Police?'. No reply. I wait what seems like 15 minutes, munching on a muesli bar, hands shaking. Really quite scared. Don't need $800 fine. Seems like a dumb idea to go for a ride now.
Finally I build up enough courage to go back; if they're still there, I won't even look, I'll just go straight home, get an alibi, and hide under my bed for a week.
I ride past, Justin and the coppers are waving at me. Do I carry on? No, Justin really wants me to stop. I pull in.
Get off bike, Justin and the coppers walk up to me. The driver-copper comes up to me.
It's fucking Zapf.
`I thought you were a fucking plainclothes!!!!!'
Justin asks me where the bloody hell I'd gone while they were chatting.
They laughed at my expense for a good hour or so while we had coffee at Mission Bay. Bastards.
I've told Zapf he needs to give the KB wave (we all know how to do that by now, right?) to bikers from now on, just in case they shit themselves, panic, and take to the hills.
Met JSG and a friend of his, and re-met a KBer whose name I've since forgotten (doesn't post much, sorry dude) who I met on my first ever KB ride. After coffee Justin and I didn't get back til about 2am-2.30am, took in the sights of Devonport, unmolested by any kind of law enforcement. Love the empty night roads. Wish there wasn't a curfew for un-full-licence-holders.
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